Ça ne fait rien
by WibblyWobbly-TimeyWimey
Summary: Ballet AU gender bent!destiel. Deanna Winchester is a regular gal thank you very much, she works in a garage, looks after her irritating little sister, and goes to ballet school. She may or may not have a crush on her ballet teacher, Castielle Novak. Complications arrive because nothing is ever easy for the Winchesters. Sabriel on the side & John being a bad father. Rated T jic.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Very sillily of me got a new idea in my head and am madly in love with it so have been planning away furiously. This does have a plot (more or less) but we'll see where it takes us. I've always wanted some form of Dean!Ballerina since that glorious episode, and because I have a soft spot for gender bent supernatural, this promptly arrived in my head.

I will try my very hardiest to update regularly, and I hope you all like. As per usual, I have no one to laugh and point out my no doubt many mistakes, and I do not own supernatural or anything in it (just a lot of destiel and sammy feelings).

* * *

With a click, the door closed. The gentle piano music stopped and everyone let out a shaky breath. Deanna could feel the room visibly sag.

"Fucking hell."

"Meg!" Castielle chided, though she didn't have the heart to scold them just yet. A very important scout had been eyeing over the girls, silently criticising every aspect of their turns, stance, expressions, pirouettes. Gazing over them with an almost bored expression, but she knew that's how they worked. She's experienced them before. They had all been awfully nervous so she decided to let that one curse slide.

"Shame he wasn't more of a catch, I would have climbed that like a tree and got a place out of him that way." Meg gazed lazily at the door, but there was still tension in her eyes, skin flushed from the excursion and nerves.

"Is there anyone you wouldn't sleep with?" Jo turned to Meg, raising her eyebrow. Meg simply grinned suggestively in reply.

"Ladies, please. There will be no need for such… extravagances-" Meg snorted and Castielle gave her a sharp glance, "-each of you were just as we practised. You were all quite spectacular. None of you slipped up as you feared, and I'm very proud of you. I think we can end early today, we all need a little respite after that. I'll see you all tomorrow, at the usual time." She clapped her hands and began to move around the room shifting things back to their original placings. She was very particular about where everything belonged.

Jo shoved lightly at Deanna's shoulder, "What'd you think?"

"I think he seemed like a total douchebag. He has his head so far up his ass he thought he was royalty." Deanna rolled her shoulders and began to cool down with some simple stretches. Jo shrugged and joined in.

"It's a shame really. He could have been the one to sweep us away and turn us into stars…"

"You sound like Lilith." Deanna rolled her eyes, Jo snorted. "'I'm going to become a world famous ballerina and make all the history books and never have sex with anyone because I spend all my time practising to be the end of you all.'" Deanna waved her arms around and hitched up her voice, imitating the one girl they almost all disliked, but who, she would begrudgingly admit was exceptionally good at ballet. Jo in the meantime laughed so hard she slipped from her stretch and landed with a dull thud on the floor. They met each others eyes with straight faces, then both burst out laughing, becoming aware of the majority of the room joining in. It felt good to laugh, and if they were a little hysterical, no one commented in it, merely were silently thankful for the sudden lightness to ease the tension in the air.

"Honestly. I turn my back for two seconds and already one of you is on the floor, the rest of you not looking far off." Castielle smiled at her students, glad they were finding something bright in an otherwise difficult situation. "I think you all need to a good rest, or quite possibly a strong drink. Not that I would ever encourage such a thing." She smiled wirily, looking possibly for a moment longer at Deanna than the others, though it was common knowledge that Deanna was prone to large amounts of alcohol when given the opportunity. Jo of course was often the provider of said opportunity.

The laughing faded out and they ended with light hearted conversations, trying to put the scout out of their minds. When they finished their stretches they left for the changing rooms, opting for some more comfortable clothing. The relief was almost tangible in the air as they left in twos and threes, each waving to Castielle as they left. Jo and Deanna were among the last to leave.

"Last again, you two?"

"Of course. You know we're loath to leave practise." Jo looked mockingly stricken and Castielle shook her head smiling. She knew they put on the facade of disliking their long hours of practise, that they both loved it deeply, and that they were in fact always the last two to leave. She had often wondered why, but never asked. They were among her best most gifted students, so she wasn't about to begrudge them the extra ten minutes they always lingered. Besides, she often enjoyed chatting them.

"No partying tonight Miss Harvelle. Nor you, Winchester."

Deanna groaned and rolled her eyes. "You say that like its a regular thing." Castielle raised her eyebrows and they laughed, shrugging at her.

"Alright, no parties. It's not like we're ever late."

"I know." Castielle gave Deanna a look she didn't quite understand, so merely grinned and waved goodbye. The fact was, Deanna was usually here before even Castielle was. Jo was often with her, though if they had been out the night before she was suspiciously missing. She watched them leave before grabbing her bag and making sure everything was in its correct spot. After a satisfied nod, she switched everything off and locked up. She let out a small breath, and remembered the half opened bottle of wine at home. She ran for the bus, catching it just in time, and settling into the seat with a small smile.

oOo

"So, drinks round mine?" Jo shoved at Deanna's arm as they walked at a pleasant pace back to their houses.

"Love to, but you know the drill. Sam'd throw a bitch-fit if I don't go straight home. Apparently she wants to celebrate or something."

"Always the big softie."

"Yeah." Deanna smiled fondly. Her younger sister was a huge ass dork, and could sometimes be so unbearably soppy that Deanna had to smack her round the head, but in her heart she was glad that Sam had turned out to be a big ol' lump of mushy chick-flick'ness. At least she'd turned out okay. "Anyway, who says you're getting out of it?" Deanna elbowed Jo's side.

"As much as I'd love to paint with glitter and braid each others hair-" Deanna snorted, "Mom wants me back. Something along the same lines. Family time." She rolled her eyes.

"Gross." Deanna grimaced. She couldn't remember the last time they'd had 'family time'. Her and Sammy and… John. He just wasn't the family type. Before these thoughts could truly take hold, Deanna pushed them away and chatted aimlessly with her friend while time allowed. As they neared their respective houses, they hugged and said goodbye, going their separate ways.

Deanna hesitated on the doorstep, closing her eyes briefly and letting out a shallow breath. Then, she turned the handle and went inside.

"Deanna!"

"Hey, kidda. How was school?" Sammy almost knocked her over she barrelled into her so hard.

"Not important. How did it go? Have you got a place? Did they love you? What did they say?"

"Woah woah, hold up with the Spanish Inquisition. Let a gal breath, Sammy." She patted her sister's head and received a scowl in return.

"Deanna I'm not six anymore."

"I know. I just like to piss you off. Is dad home?" She added casually.

"Not yet." She recognised the cool, nonchalant expression that Sam was wearing upon the mentioning of their father. It irked her, despite the fact she wore it most of the time herself. She still respected their dad… even if he was a total asshat.

"Cool, fancy a shake?"

"Is that even a question?"

Deanna snorted at her sister's rolling of the eyes and shoved her. "Lemme put my gear on." She walked to her room and threw her bag on her bed, quickly changing into some jeans and a tank, grabbing her much loved and well worn leather jacket from the door. She shoved a little money into her pocket, scribbled a note for their dad in case he actually was back before they returned.

"Let's go, short ass."

"Deanna, I'm taller than you."

"Whatever." She locked the door behind them, and made their way to her bike. The fact of the matter was, Sam was anything but short. She was abnormally tall. Even for a fourteen year old. She wasn't so tall it would weird guys out in later years, though if it did they would have approximately four seconds before Deanna kicked their ass, but tall enough to tower above most girls her age. And in some cases, girls above her age. Including, though she was loath to admit, her much cooler older sister.

"Put this on." Deanna passed her sister the only other helmet she had in her possession. Sam groaned and looked at her with annoyance.

"Why do I have to wear the shitty helmet?"

"Because I said so. Put it on or no milkshake."

"Fine." She pouted, and glared for good measure before securing. She stuck her tongue out as Deanna pulled on her own helmet.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

They smirked at one another before seating themselves on the bike. The bike had been one of the greatest gifts her father had ever given her, not counting Her Baby, but that's for later. Deanna loved her bike. It wasn't anything extravagant, it wasn't posh, it hadn't been expensive, in fact it was utter junk when he'd thrust it at her. But she lovingly built it up, piece by piece, with the help of Bobby for parts, and had turned it into a damn good bike. It could snugly fit two people, snug being the word. Deanna never took anyone on her bike. Only her sister. She'd thought about letting Jo on it once, but Jo had raised her eyebrows and vehemently refused to get on that 'unstable hunk of shit' to which Deanna had smacked her and they'd had to walk to the damn movies. Jo was now slightly more inclined to at least be within five meters of it which was something, but hey, these things took time. Maybe in another seven years she might touch it.

They arrived smoothly at the diner, the only decent one in town. Regardless of the fact that Ellen owned it, which made her slightly biased, they had the best burgers, pies, and milkshakes arguably within the nearest five states. The Roadhouse was one of Deanna's favourite places, as was it Sam's.

"So, whatcha want kidda? My treat." Deanna watched with fondness as her sister scrunched up her face and studied the menu. "Fruit smoothies are excluded from the treat."

Sam groaned and glared at her sister, before declaring she would have a chocolate milkshake with extra toppings. Ash wandered over and took their orders, chatting to them as he prepared their shakes.

"_What_ the hell is this, Ash? Who put this on?" Deanna pulled a face looking up at the speakers.

"You shut your pie whole, Winchester, this is Michael Bublé. You speak highly of him or you don't speak at all."

Sam snorted and grabbed their milkshakes from the bar and strode over to a booth. Deanna rolled her eyes and paid Ash, earning another threatening looking before leaving to sit with Sam. She pushed Deanna's classic shake (the best damn vanilla milkshake with a cherry on top) across to her and took a huge slurp from her own.

"So. What did the scout say?" Sam briefly looked up before spooning up a ridiculous amount of cream and dumping it in her mouth.

"Nothing." Deanna shrugged and lifted the cherry off and placed it onto a napkin.

"What do you mean nothing? They must have said something?"

"Nope. Didn't say squat. They stalked around glaring at us for a bit, then just left." She lifted a dollop of cream and dropped it on Sam's nose. Sam rolled her eyes and threw a napkin at her. Deanna smirked and took a drink of her milkshake.

"How was school?"

"Don't avoid the subject, Deanna."

"I'm not, there's just nothing to tell. Besides ballet lessons are boring, you don't wanna hear about it."

"We both know you don't think they're boring," Sam frowned at her sister before sighing, "But fine, if you don't want to talk about it we won't. School was great, Miss Milligan was telling us about…"

Deanna listened to Sam tell her about her day. How Miss Milligan told them about some really weird laws in their state, how she thought that Sam would be a good lawyer when she was older because she was good at presenting arguments ("I told her that was from all the practice I had arguing with you"), and how Jess had invited her over for a sleepover this weekend which she was desperate to go to because she had their favourite flower hair film or something on dvd ("Tangled, Deanna, it's called Tangled"). After finishing their shakes, they wandered outside calling bye to Ash who suddenly started belting out something about not having met them even though they were stood right there. Sam rolled her eyes and pulled her sister outside.

"Honestly, Deanna, you need to update your music."

"Hey my music taste is just fine thank you."

"You do ballet… and listening to Black Sabbath. You're like a walking oxymoron."

"You're an oxymoron." Deanna stuck her tongue out and ruffled her sisters her. Sam shoved her off put her hands on her hips.

"That doesn't even make _sense_. You can't just use the same insult as a come back, it doesn't work."

"All right, Gigantor, enough of your book smarts. You wanna go back?"

"No I said we had things planned didn't I? We're going to the movies."

"Oh, are we indeed? Your fairy godmother gonna pay for that?"

'No. I am." She sniffed and spun on her heel, all but running back to the bike.

"What? Hey- wait!" Deanna ran after her sister and grabbed the helmet off her before she could put it on. Sam crossed her arms stubbornly.

"What do you mean you're paying? You've got no money, Sasquatch."

"Who says I don't? I've been saving."

Deanna's face soften. "Sammy you don't gotta pay for anything. I was kidding, I'll pay. Just means no pie for a while."

"No, I said I've been saving. I want to pay." Deanna opened her mouth to protest but Sam quickly spoke up, "You always pay for everything and you always get me stuff and I never do for you so I want to treat you for once because it's not like dad's going to and, and besides you'd never let me live it down if we couldn't have pie." She lifted her chin stubbornly, daring Deanna to disagree, she could see the challenge in her eyes. Deanna paused.

"God you're _such_ a school girl, Sammy." She finally said dropping her shoulders and shoving the helmet onto Sam's head.

"Well, d'uh, Deanna." Her voice was slightly muffled from the helmet, and Deanna patted her cushioned head. Sometimes she really loved the soppy side of her sister. She pulled on her own helmet, and jumped up onto the back, fastening her sister's arms around her waist, before throwing back;

"I'm buying the popcorn."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I promise this is going somewhere. I've never finished a large fic (or novel for that matter) before so please bear with me. I'm hoping this turns out to be something great. As usual, I have no one to check my mistakes. I'll try make up for it.

Enjoy!

* * *

A week had passed and still there had been no word from the scout. Castielle admittedly was irked by this, more so because of the effect she saw it having on her students. While they still worked as hard as they ever had, behaved excellently, she could tell there was a general misery in the air. Deanna seemed more frustrated than ever, getting irritated too quickly when she missed stepping for the third time.

"Deanna-"

"I know," She growled rubbed her face, "Just give me a minute." She stomped off to the sides and dumped herself onto a bench, grabbing a bottle of water. Castielle frowned. That was certainly not normal behaviour. She waited a while before giving the class instructions they could manage without her, and slid off to sit by Deanna.

"I'll be back in a minute, I just needed a break."

"It's quite all right. You work hard, you're allowed a small break every now and then."

Deanna nodded in thanks, not looking at her. Castielle tried another approach. "Is everything all right?" she said, a touch more concern than she intended flooding her voice.

"I'm good." Deanna straightened her back and finally met her eyes. She smiled. "Honestly, I'm good. Thanks."

"You know that you can-"

"Seriously, I'm _fine_." Castielle opened her mouth to say something else but Deanna had already stood up, determined not to have this conversation. "If we don't get back to this lot they'll fall apart. God they're useless." She grinned down at Castielle before walking back off to the rest of the class. Castielle sighed and shook her head; any of the others she'd had no problems with when it came to serious discussions, but Deanna was always evasive and blasé. Brushing it off as simply a bad day, after all everyone had them, she made her way back to class.

"Starting positions everyone!"

At the end of the class, everyone seemed to launch themselves out of the door quicker than usual. This could mean many things, but it usually meant a party. Deanna and Jo were whispering to themselves, barely glancing up when they passed Castielle. Jo seemed to be looking apologetic about something. They walked straight to, then out of the door. She frowned after them, but swiftly followed, having already turned everything off. As she came to the door, she heard voices. She hesitated for a moment, but was overcome with curiosity when she heard Deanna's voice touched with annoyance. She crept closer and listened.

"Jo, it doesn't matter. Go have fun and whatever, just don't sleep with anyone you'll regret. Again."

"Shut your trap, Winchester. Here I am trying to be nice and apologising-"

"What the hell are you apologising for? It's not your fault my dad's being a douchebag."

Jo sighed. "Yeah, all right. Well, just let me know if you can sneak out okay? I'm sorry you can't come."

"Stop being such a school girl, Jo. Go drink yourself into a coma and get laid."

"You're such a dick. I'll see you later, yeah?"

Castielle heard footsteps retreating. "Son of a bitch." Deanna's voice was quiet and sounded miserable. Castielle waited a moment, before opening the door.

"Hello, Deanna."

"Oh, hey." She smiled weakly.

"Party is it?"

"Hmm?"

"A party? I'm assuming that's why everyone left at such speed."

"Oh, yeah. Someone from high school having a thing," She shrugged, "Whatever."

"You should enjoy that." She said carefully over her shoulder as she locked the door.

"Not going. Not really my thing. They're all just gonna freaking cry about how long it's been since we've all since each other. Ugh."

"I see." She turned around and eyed her curiously.

"Anyway. Have a nice weekend. I'll see you around!" Deanna smiled and quick as a flash, was gone. Castielle wondered if her earlier episode in class had been to do with what she'd overheard. She frowned, but kept to herself, deciding to walk home for once.

oOo

Deanna arrived home, pissed with John and in a bad mood. Contrary to what everyone thought of her, she didn't really go out. She rarely went out with anyone other than her sister or Jo, it was the times she had, that had given her her reputation. She often drank a lot. Like, a lot. Deanna was proud she could drink mostly anyone under the table, and still be able to pirouette if she wanted to. She hadn't done that in a while. Exhausted from her class, she dove into the fridge to find no food. Beer, but no food. She gritted her teeth and pulled out a beer, throwing the cap onto the counter and staring at the floor. John had forbade her to go out. She knew exactly why.

Deanna always cooked the meals. They never had enough to order food in, only very rarely did they do this, and so she was always forced to cook. She didn't mind, her mom had taught her well enough, and she what she didn't know she picked up here and there. Plus Sammy loved it when she cooked, often desperate to help her, even if that usually meant eating the cake mixture or pie filling. What pissed her off was the fact John didn't even try. Okay so he worked late and it was his money that brought the food in the first place, but he could _try_. Instead all he seemed to do was drink beer and expect it.

Suddenly put off from her beer, she shoved it back in the fridge, and disappeared into her room. Sam was at a sleepover, John was still at work, she had the house to herself. She pulled on some old working clothes, and left the house with a slam of doors and deep breath of the evening air. She jogged to _Singer's Garage_, waving to Bobby as she weaved into a more secluded part of the garage. Here she turned on the radio, letting good old Zepp wash through her as she pulled the cover off her baby. This was her prized possession. The one thing guaranteed to pull her out of any bad mood.

For her sixteenth birthday, John had gruffly mumbled something about it being a hunk of shit, and pulled off the cover to reveal really, her dream car. 1967 Chevrolet Impala. It was totalled and John wasn't even sure it would be any good to her, but Deanna's eyes had filled with tears and it had been love at first sight. He said it was an apology and that he would try to be better for them.

Not wanting to let her mind wander on that tangent, she pulled on some overalls, and grabbed a few tools, and set to work. It wasn't until later that she emerged, and only because some jerk had turned off Zepp.

"Hey!" She hurled herself out from underneath, ready to beat who ever had committed the crime, only to be faced with Bobby.

"Before you get pissy at me, your dad's on the phone. He don't sound none too happy neither."

"Shit."

"That's what I thought. You better get your ass back, pronto."

Deanna groaned pulled her overalls off nearly falling in the process.

"I'll get all this." Bobby said as she tried hurriedly to shove tools away.

"Thanks, Bobby. I owe you one."

"You always owe me one." He smiled and patted her shoulder, his expression shifting to worry once her back was turned. John had sounded beyond pissed, a trifle drunk too. He knew John wouldn't do anything stupid, but he still worried. "Poor kids."

Deanna ran back to the house, flying through the door fifteen minutes later.

"Where the hell've you been?" John's voice seemed to almost reverberate off the walls.

"I've been at Bobby's, dad, working on-"

"Th'impala I know. You care more about that damn car than anything else."

"That's not fair." She protested moving through to the kitchen.

"Not fair? Sh'I tell you what's not fair?" He said darkly, turning to glare at her in a way she was all too familiar with. She could smell the alcohol on him. She bit her tongue. "Working ten hours a goddamn day just to put food on this table is unfair. You prancing 'round like a fucking fairy wasting your time is unfair. Coming back after working those long hours 'n finding a goddamn empty house is unfair! Where the hell's your sister?"

"She's at a sleepover I already told you. You're picking her up tomorrow-"

"Out tomorrow."

"But you said-"

"'M saying now that I'm out tomorrow. You're gonna have to pick her up." He wobbled out the room and Deanna briefly closed her eyes. _Don't say it. Don't follow him, don't do it Deanna._

"What if I'm busy?" She walked after him, ignoring the voice in her head telling her this was a mother of bad ideas.

"Tough, you're doing it. Make some food, haven't eaten since this morning."

"Damn it-"

"Don't you swear at me!" He shouted, taking a step towards her. Deanna should have stopped. She should have apologised and done exactly what she was told. She took a deep breath.

"I'll swear as much as I fucking want." She glared up at him, swallowing the knot of fear at his expression.

"Say that again." He said quietly. His voice was dark and terrifying.

"I said I'll swear as much as I fucking want. She's your fucking daughter not-" Deanna heard the noise before she felt it. Silence. And then she felt the stinging. On her left cheekbone. She rolled her jaw experimentally and immediately wished she hadn't.

"Deanna 'm sorry I-" John's face was broken and he reached out to her. She took a step back and shook her head. Then she turned and walked out the door, ignoring John's protests. She hadn't grabbed her keys, nor a coat. It wasn't cold but it wasn't exactly warm enough either. She heard her boots smacking against the pavement and let the repetitive sound wash over her. She held back the tears and kept walking. _He was drunk. He didn't know what he was doing, he's had a long day. He was drunk. He said sorry. He was drunk._

She kept repeating this to herself as she walked, feet pounding the ground, cold air biting at her skin. She repeated it seamlessly and continuously until she walked straight into something. When she looked up and realised what the something was, she almost swore. _Thanks a bunch._

"Son of a bitch," She muttered, throwing her hands up in front of her, "Sorry, I wasn't watching where was going." She tried to walk past as briskly as she could, but Castielle's hand was already around her arm, spinning her back round.

"Deanna? What on Earth happened?"

"It's nothing, just an accident. Look I need to-"

"You're _freezing_," Deanna opened her mouth to protest but Castielle looked sharply at her, "Where are you going?"

Deanna was a person of wit and quick thinking, so it was only natural that it should all leave her floundering at this precise moment when she needed it most.

"That's what I thought. Come on."

"Honestly, Miss Novak I'm-"

"Please, call me Castielle. Miss Novak is far too formal for out of class." Deanna noticed with a slight twist in her stomach that she still had a firm hold on her wrist. She didn't even want to think about what that flutter meant. "I'm not leaving you out here to freeze, regardless of how close the place is you're intending to go. I want to look at that cheek, too." She added with a sweeping glance over her shoulder. "Come."

Deanna snatch her wrist back, pouting slightly, "I'm not a dog." She mumbled, but followed her anyway.

By the time they arrived at what Deanna assumed was Castielle's apartment, she was feeling the cold. She was trying her best to suppress the shudders that were rattling through her, but they still managed to escape.

"Oh, I'm being careless. I'm sorry, here, wait a moment." She shut the door behind them and disappeared into a nearby room. Deanna was aware of how absolutely _clean_ everything looked and how filthy her clothes were in comparison. She took off her boots as gently as she could without causing the dirt to cover everything. Rubbing her arms, she irritatingly tried to reduce her teeth chattering in any way possible. It wasn't a large apartment, but it hadn't the look of somewhere cheap either. There were a massive number of books. Apparently everywhere, all in neat organised piles. Deanna tried not to stare.

Castielle returned with a stupidly soft sweater, and a blanket. She directed her to the sofa and waited until she'd pulled the sweater over her head before wrapping her in the blanket. She nodded throwing her coat over the back over the sofa, and pulled out a bowl from the kitchen running the hot water. Deanna shivered and pulled the blanket closer.

"I figured it would be easier bringing you here than taking you elsewhere. At least here I know exactly what help you're being given."

Deanna nodded numbly, closing her eyes and willing away the monster of a headache that was currently raging through her head. She was still reeling from the fact John had hit her. _He was drunk, remember._ When Castielle placed a bowl on the coffee table and sat next to it, Deanna was beginning to feel particularly awful.

"So. Are you going to tell me how this happened?" She asked gently, dampening the cloth and lifting to her face. Deanna winced as it touched the tender skin.

"Told you. Accident." Her voice was rough, and it was clear as day that she wasn't being honest. However, Castielle merely nodded, and continued to dab her face. She appreciated that she didn't push the topic. They sat in silence, and gradually, Deanna began to feel a little warmer. She pushed the blanket off her and gingerly touched her cheek. She winced again, gritting her teeth. That was mistake.

"Awesome." She ground out, trying not to cry at the pain.

"You're going to have a lovely bruise," Castielle looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, her fingers reached up and lingered for a moment on her face, "But accidents happen. Would you like a drink and some pain killers?" She said coming out of her trance.

"Please."

She nodded and stood up, moving into the kitchen and pulling two mugs down. She tried to make as little noise as she could. "I don't suppose you'll tell me why you were out without a coat on either?"

Deanna snorted and stood up from the sofa, walking to the table that was part of the open planned kitchen.

"I didn't think so. I'd advice you have one at hand in future, for when you need a swift exit." Deanna found her face irritatingly calm. She knew Castielle wasn't buying it. So why was she playing along?

"I forgot." She shrugged and settled onto a chair, watching Castielle move as she graced around the kitchen. Castielle made a none committal sound. With her back turned, Castielle began to hum a light tune, and Deanna began to feel soothed in watching her moving, the soft humming caressing her ears.

When she was finished, she sat opposite Deanna, placing a plain mug in front of her. Deanna felt her heart clench. She looked down at her lap. She would not bring up these memories. It was too much, too soon after what had just happened. _She wouldn't._

Castielle seemed to sense her displeasure. "I'm sorry, Deanna, I assumed that you'd like it, I should have asked. I thought everyone liked hot chocolate." Deanna looked up and saw a little crease in her brow. She sighed.

"I do. It's just not something I allow myself anymore."

"Why ever not?"

Deanna hesitated. It was a stupid thing really, and she was mildly annoyed with herself for still insisting on it. She needed to start letting go. She wanted to tell Castielle why. Maybe not the whole truth, but something close. She wanted to tell her everything, let it all spill over the edges of the dam she'd built to prevent it from ever escaping. She wrapped her hands around the mug and when she spoke, she did so with a neutral factual voice. "I haven't had it since my mom died. It's a crappy thing, but stuff like this usually brings the memories back."

"I'm sorry, Deanna. When did she die?"

"When I was ten." She shrugged and closed her eyes as she took a sip. It was thick and hot and sweet and delicious and it filled her mind with images of Mary and her heart with a great ache. When she opened her eyes, Castielle was watching her. Not with the usual expression, of pity or sympathy, _god _did she hate those looks. It was strange. Patient. Curious.

"How did she die?"

Deanna let out a deep breath, flexing her hands out on the table and said it all in a rush. "In a car accident with my dad. Something came out and they swerved and went off the road and she died." It felt a little better to say it out loud. To someone new one. She'd never really spoken about it with anyone. Once with Jo, once with Sam, never with John.

"That's unfortunate." Deanna snapped her eyes up, unsure how to react. _Unfortunate?_ "That's possibly not the right word, but I am sorry, Deanna. You shouldn't have had to grow up with no mother." Castielle hesitated before placing her hand gently atop Deanna's. She held it there for a moment before removing it.

For some reason Deanna felt heat creeping up her neck, and she recognised that her body was blushing. _Blushing. _Horrified at the idea, she rolled her shoulders and took a gulp of the chocolate.

"Whatever. I'm good. I should probably get back." She drummed her fingers on the table and looked anywhere but the ridiculously blue eyes that were calmly staring at her.

"I'll walk you."

"Thank, Cas, but no it's fine, like, totally. I'm probably better to jog anyway." She wasn't really sure what she was saying but she was beginning to feel naked under Castielle's gaze.

"Cas?"

"What?" She asked suddenly thrown.

"You called me Cas."

"Shit. Sorry it just sounds right. Castielle is a weird name, dude." She looked up to find that Castielle looked slightly baffled but she could see the flicker of amusement in her eyes.

"Yes my parents were fond of unusual names."

"The angel of Thursday, isn't it?"

"How did you know it was an angel name?" She asked her eyebrows raised.

"Lucky guess. My mom used to tell me about angels. Said that they watched over me." _Maybe they should have watched over her._

"Not many people know that." Deanna shrugged again, downing the still too hot chocolate in her mug. She stood up, beginning to pull the sweater over her head. Castielle glimpsed a smooth hip. She trained her eyes onto Deanna's slightly obscured face. "Keep it. I have more."

Deanna pulled it back down, narrowing her eyes. "I have many more," Castielle promised, "Besides it suits you, and if you must insist on walking back alone then you at least need another layer of clothing."

Deanna rolled her eyes but kept it on. Castielle stood up, and they walked to the door. Deanna clumsily pulled on her boots, and then as she reached for the handle of the door, an impulsive bubble rose up and out of Castielle's mouth before she could stop it. "Would you like to have lunch tomorrow?"

Deanna's hand froze and she turned slowly. She felt the heat creeping up her neck again. "What?"

"Lunch. I have a distinct feeling that you do not wish to be alone at the moment, and I'd rather keep an eye on that bruise of yours. I may also need to do some shopping if I'm to begin giving clothes away." She added teasingly, smiling a little. Deanna opened her mouth to protest but she flapped her hand dismissively. "Would you like to? You're not in any way obliged to say yes."

Deanna was quiet for several minutes. Her eyes flickering across Castielle's face, unsure as if she were waiting for her to claim it to be a trap or trick. Fight or flight. _Strange_.

Deanna mumbled something that sounded like 'fuck it' "Sure. That'll be… yeah."

"Is twelve an acceptable time?" Deanna nodded. "Excellent. Have you heard of The Roadhouse?"

Deanna snorted loudly and grinned. Castielle took this as a sign she did. They met each others eyes and the silence suddenly seemed deafening. Deanna broke it first.

"Thanks for the sweater. I'll bring it back."

"I told you, it's quite all right."

"Yeah well. Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow, Cas." She opened the door and walked out before stopping and turning slightly. She met her eyes again. "Thanks for… y'know." Castielle nodded, and then she was gone.


End file.
